Starting With A Gunshot
by writergirl89
Summary: When his partner is shot, it's a cold, bright day in Brooklyn and Jake Peralta wakes up unassuming - and ends the day changed. Sensitive subject matter. Some violence. J/A. Long one-shot. Mentions of gun violence. Complete.


**Title:** Starting With A Gunshot

**Author:** WriterGirl89

**Fandom:** Brooklyn Nine-Nine

**POV:** Third-Person

**Rating: **M (for language only and some violence)

**Pairing:** Jake/Amy

**Summary:** When his partner is shot, it's a cold, bright day in Brooklyn and Jake Peralta wakes up unassuming - and ends the day changed.

**Author's Note:** So, this is an idea that I got recently and has been percolating inside my brain for a while even though I've been writing other things and I swear to you guys that I'm still gonna update on Be My Valentine At The Nine-Nine so, there's no need to worry about that and I will try to give you something on that soon and this is just something I had to get out in the open even though it's a lot more serious than anything I've written for this particular fandom so far. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything having to do with B99 and also, if you have any problem with a more serious, slightly darker story involving touchy subject matter with something that's usually comedic then, skip this – otherwise, trust me.

…..

On the day his partner is shot, it's a cold, bright day in Brooklyn and Jake Peralta wakes up unassuming - and ends the day changed.

And it's a similar day just a week before when Jake is approached by said partner while he tries to concentrate on his much hated, tedious task of paperwork.

"Hey, Peralta?" He feels her lean over into him as he types out his report, fingers jabbing into his keyboard at rapid speed.

"What's up, Santiago?" He greets in his usual manner, getting ready to have his attention away from his assignment at hand if only to bicker with his partner for a few minutes.

"Can we talk?"

"We _are_ talking." He responses sardonically as he continues to type.

"Alone?"

He stops what he's doing, looking up at Santiago, cocked brow at the ready, a joke of how _kinky_ she could be right on his tongue – and then pauses when he sees her face.

She looks serious. And not in the _'oh god, please, I want you so much' _kind of way but, in a _'I have an actual issue I need to discuss with you'_ type way.

She looks troubled and he doesn't like it and that causes his urge to joke and rile up to take a backseat to the feeling that's something like concern bubbling in his chest and he asks as much. "What's wrong?"

She looks away, shaking her head, eyes bouncing all over the place. "Not here."

"What are you-"

"Just... come on." She gives him an impatient nod and starts walking away, giving him a significant look over her shoulder that tells him to follow her.

And, after finishing up and saving his report, he does just that.

He finds her pacing in the evidence lock-up, her tiny heels making loud _clickkity-clacks_ on the floor as she stomps it down in her frazzled state, only stopping when he enters the room, the door closing behind him.

He steps closer to her, not even giving credence to personal space, peering into her face as her big eyes again dance around the room nervously. "What is it?"

She's in quite a state, he could tell and he could also sense her need to put space between them, her urge to run and he's glad when she doesn't give in to it. "I have..." She loos down and away from him, giving special attention to her shoes. "... a friend."

"Okay..." He trails off, not knowing where this is going. "And...?"

She takes a deep breath, looking up into his face and the look in her eye causes his own nerves to fizzle up. "She's in trouble."

"Trouble? What do you mean, trouble?"

"She's..." Whatever she's wants to say is seriously gonna put an even darker slant on her mood, he could tell. "...married to this... guy." Even though what comes out of her mouth is the word _guy_, Jake knows it's more or less a cover for phrases like _shithead_ or _asshole_ or _son of a bitch_ or_ fuckface_ because he's looking right at her and years of partnership has taught him well.

"And... you don't like this guy?" He tries carefully. Cautiously. Because there's no need to get on her bad side right now.

She gives him a look them, something dark flickering across her face. "He... hurts her." She tells him, voice strained and he frowns, the meaning of her words registering.

"When you say_ hurts_, you mean-?"

"That he's an abusive scumbag?" She inserts, her voice louder and angry, eyes glittering in upset tears that startle him. "Yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it." She wipes at her eyes aggressively, trying to compose herself and he watches all this, trying to deduce what it is she wants from him in this and even though, he's starting to get the picture, he wants to hear it from her.

"Amy..." He says as gently as he can, drawing her attention back to him. "...What are you asking me?"

And then, she's just giving him a look, face dead serious, eyes big and pleading, and he wants to say he's wrong, that she's _not_ asking him what he thinks she's asking him-

"Oh, no." He hears himself saying, everything coming together in his head as she just nods quietly. "Oh, no, Amy..."

"She needs help." Her voice is pleading and he's never heard her sound like this so, it makes him shut up as she steps closer to him and grabs his hand, her fingers looking remarkably tiny around his wrist when he looks down to see, despite her strong grip. "I can't do this one myself.-"

"Why can't you-?"

"Because Holt has rules, remember?" She says sternly. "He'll bench me on this because it's personal." She looks saddened by the prospect and he softens when she steps into his personal space, wet eyes looking into his own, bending him to her will. "And I won't be able to help my friend when she needs it the most and you're the only person I trust on this."

"Why?" He hears himself asking even though he won't lie and say the quiet praise of her words don't warm him up from the inside out because they do in a big way. "You could easily ask-"

"I could." She agrees with a quick nod of her head. "But, I don't want to..."

"Because?"

She exhales and then says. "Because you're my partner. And also..." She hesitates a little. "...my friend. And I'd like to think that would be reason enough to do this. Out of friendship. That you would do this for me. Just because I asked you to." She holds his gaze, eyes now dry, and the mix of pleading and conviction makes his throat close up. "Please, Jake."

He looks at her. Into her dark, beautiful eyes. And contemplates her words, the white noise in his head as he thinks about how wrong she is. Well, a _little_ bit wrong. Yes, they're partners, have been years, and recently, friends and he values that friendship but, if he would do anything she asks without any question at all, it wouldn't be out of anything strictly platonic and he's not stupid enough to assume the ball in his throat and the stop in his breathing when she looks at him like _that_ - talks to him like _that_ - and the fact that, although he'd never admit it, he would do exactly what she wants, is some adherence to something as simple and unassuming as... _friendship_, the word causing a sour feeling in his throat that he covers up by clearing it and looking away from her, is completely and utterly ridiculous.

_Shit._

"Okay." He says, his voice sounding, even to his own ears, like gravel passing through it and he clears his throat again to speak more clearly. "Okay. I'm in."

He looks at her again and gives him a mental kick in the ass for the warm tightness forming in his chest at the sight of the smile that spreads across her face, the sight so blaring that he assumes it's something like looking into the sun - both painful and kind of unbelievable in the way that you wanna experience it again. "Oh, thank you." She moves _extremely_ close to him then and if she notices him rearing back a bit in response, she certainly doesn't show it and instead her grip on him tightens as she looks at him in gratitude. "Thank you, Jake." She also certainly _sounds_ grateful, too, and for a minute, he fears she might hug him and he braces himself - physically and mentally - because he knows, for sure, that if she does he might just ask what other favors he probably owes her and accomplish _all of them_.

She doesn't. Holds herself back from full-on ambushing him into a bear-like embrace and he's eternally grateful because honest to God, he has no clue what it would do to him.

But, he_ does_ take great pleasure in the smile she gives him and the warmth it spreads through his limbs.

Friendship, right?

...

Claire Madison is quite a sight to behold when he meets her a few hours later, Amy walking her in, an arm almost cushioning her into the station and he assesses her as the duo walks towards him, taking in all the physical differences between the two women.

Claire is a petite strawberry blonde with the palest, alabaster skin with fair delicate features that are almost doll-like when he compares it to his partner, her strong, able posture contrasting strongly with her friend's slumping shoulders and stiffness overall and he doesn't need to question why because if the way she disappears into herself in a public place is any indication, she's on edge. Like she's _waiting_ for something to jump out at her.

That and he knows the story because Amy tells him, right before going to collect her friend, in great detail about how bad it is with her situation. The beatings. The mental degradation. Everything. The pain she's in. The way that after every single call to the police, no charges are filed because her husband - some douche by the name of Mike - would only ever get his way in the end via bullying and/or insincere promises and apologies that would have no follow-through.

"Claire." Amy's voice is soothing, cajoling. Like a vocal balm to the senses. "Claire, honey, this is Jake Peralta. He's gonna help you, okay?"

She rubs at the other woman's arm until she looks up from her shoes and looks him in the eye and up close, he sees that there's a smattering of freckles across her nose and that he could tell by the skin around her green eyes that there's been recently healed bruising there and that she'd be a great beauty if the signs of abuse weren't so clear.

And any doubts that he be may having about helping Amy with this evaporates.

"Hi." He greets, keeping out of her personal bubble and extending his hand out to her, not wanting to spook her, smiling at her gently. "I'm Jake. I'm Amy's partner. It's nice to meet you."

Her gaze only follow his movement, eye twitching as she looks at his hand, long enough that he almost thinks about taking it back when she abruptly takes his offer of handshake, startling him a bit as her hand tries to limply shake his and even if he thinks she _looks_ delicate, it's absolutely nothing compared to the way her fingers seem so thin and boney that one false move on his part could break them easily.

It's not a nice feeling and unproudly, he's glad when she ends the contact.

"Hi." Her voice is even worse, croaky like as if rusty of use and he nods at her, taking seat and watching his partner pat the blonde on the shoulder before she sits down, and leans into her friend in almost a whisper. "I have to go see my boss. I'll be right over there..." She points towards Holt's office. "...And I'll come get you after you're done here, okay?" Claire only nods and he can tell by the stiffness that set on her shoulder and the ensuing exhale of relief that while, she's not pleased over her friend not being here with them, she's also not worried that she won't be nearby.

"Okay." She says back, shooting a weary look in his direction that Amy seems to spot, leaning in again to talk lowly though he could hear perfectly.

"It's alright." In an almost maternal fashion, she reaches out and brushes a strand of hair out of her friend's face, rubbing her arm comfortingly, her voice warm and calming. "Jake's fine. He's a great detective. A good man. He'll listen, I promise."

She's only paying attention to her troubled friend as she speaks but, he has a hard time not focusing on the conviction in her voice as she casually throws out the statement of calling him a _good man_ right then because it's the first he ever hears it from her and the feeling that courses through him is not unlike happiness and he has to tramp it down because now's really not the time.

Right now, he has someone to help.

"Okay." He starts off, once Amy leaves to the Captain's office. "Let's get started."

He spends the better part of over half an hour taking down Claire's words and it is difficult because once he asks about the basics of her relationship with her husband, it's like the floodgates falling open and he has a hard time not imploding when she gets into deeper details - more intimate forms of abuse that causes his whole heart to tighten up in the most horrible way - of every bit of heartache she goes through on an almost daily basis.

"Alright." He says, strained, as he finishes up that part of his report. "How'd you meet Amy?"

She looks confused, frowning at him. "Is-Is that part of the-"

"No." He saves the doc on his screen and looks properly at the woman across him. "I'm just... curious." He relaxes against his chair, hoping to appear unintrusive and non-probing as he can. "Amy didn't exactly get into detail about that."

"We met at college, actually." She surprises him by engaging and he feels pleased that _she_ feels comfortable doing so. "We both majored in Art History and we met in class." For the first time since meeting her, she almost smiles. "I thought I was honestly the hardest studying person there and then..."

"Amy came along." He finishes, easily picturing a much younger, equally as studious Amy Santiago - long before she's Santiago to his Peralta - strolling, early he could bet, into Art History, smiling and ready to learn, larger than large eyeglasses hanging on her nose, still beautiful but, in a much more quiet manner that helps her hold priority over her studies and not some idiot fratboys chasing her. "Sure sounds like her."

"Yes." She nods to him, the corners of her mouth winding up. "She was... great. Still is. We became friends almost right away." Then a quick shadow crosses her face when she continues. "She actually, uh... she introduced me to Mike." She admits, biting her lip and looking away.

He feels himself frown, automatically turning his head and looking at said partner still in her meeting with Holt, unaware of his eyes on her as he process this new bit of information. "That's why she-"

"Blames herself?" He turns his focus back to the woman speaking to him, her expression saddened and guilty. "Hates him so much? Yeah. You know, it's Amy. She'd still help me even if-" She stops herself short before continuing her thoughts in a different treck. "It's just she has these moments sometimes when I could tell she's still thinking about the past." She starts tearing up as she talks and he hands her a tissue without a second thought and she accept its with a small smile. "And I always tell her that it's fine. That I don't blame her, you know. That she could've done anything different because she didn't see it coming either but, she just hates him so much for doing this to me and it only feeds her own guilt and there's nothing I can do about it sometimes." Her face sinks into her hands and he lets her cry quietly, mind still racing and comprehending.

He never tells Amy what he finds out that day.

...

On the day his partner is shot, it's a cold, bright day in Brooklyn and Jake Peralta wakes up unassuming - and ends the day changed.

And it's something he would never, in a million years, see coming.

It's been a productive week because they are in a winning streak with most of their cases and the Claire Madison ordeal is seemingly, for the moment, done - a restraining order is just drying up it's ink, Santiago is extremely thankful to Peralta for helping her friend, Mike gets to spend at least two nights in jail, and with Amy's help, Claire is getting a new place bereft of her once-the-divorce-papers-come-in-soon-to-be-ex-husband and life is... okay that day.

Everything is... normal. He and Santiago bicker back and forth like always. Terry scolds him at least once. The Captain is at his stoic best, as usual. And Boyle makes for comic fonder as Gina criticizes his latest bright sweater.

It's all so atypical and just like any other day that Jake, throughout all his years of being a cop, should know that on these days, is precisely when something could go wrong.

He just never would think it all go to hell the way it does - so quickly, in fact.

It's around lunch time when it does and he and Amy are heading back into the station after investigating a home invasion and are going back and forth who exactly came up with the hitch of who did the crime-

"I'm just saying I was the only who-"

"-And I'm the one who said it out loud-"

And then they're coming into the precinct bullpen and everything is just as it is before they left it... and then it happens.

Jake's seating at their desk, working on his paperwork whilst Santiago talks to Holt in his office.

"Amy!" It's a man's angry, booming yell that makes them turn their heads to see a dirty-looking, dischevelled, dark-haired man arriving to the bullpen. "Amy Santiago! Where are you?! You little cun-" He stops in his rant when he spots him at their desk but, before he could move to intercept, Amy's doing it for him, coming out of Holt's office calmly, hands raised at her sides.

"What? I'm here." She says with no hint of panic at all and Jake gets up and stands near their desk, his fingers itching for his gun, uneasy by the looks of this guy.

"You!" He points an accusing finger at her, taking another step closer. "You ruined everything, you stupid, nosy bitch!"

She just scoffs at him, making a pfft sound out of her mouth. "What are you doing here, Mike?"

"I want my wife back, you gash! I wanna know where she is, goddammit!"

_Mike?_ Peralta thinks to himself disbelievingly._ This is Mike?_ He questions again because this guy is hardly anything... impressive. Doesn't look anything like the intimidator that Claire cries about when giving him her statement a week before. If anything he just seems zoinked out and..._ pathetic_.

Never mind that he'd probably weigh just over hundred pounds soaking wet.

"Ugh." She sounds out disgustedly, giving this Mike guy what Jake can only describe as the evil-eye-once-over. "How many times do I have to say it to make you understand? To get it through that empty cavern where a brain is supposed to be?" She takes a step toward Psycho Mike and from behind so does Peralta, should this idiot do something stupid. "Claire doesn't want you back. She never wants to see you again, you got it?" Even from his vantage point, Jake can see she'so mad that her whole face is turning as red as a tomato. "She's better off without you. She always has been, Now, back the fuck off." She finishes, nearly yelling now before taking a deep breath as if to compose herself and then looking up at Mike, calm again.

"You little-"

"Go home, Mike. There's nothing for you here. Leave me and Claire alone. Or I promise you, I will make you pay." She threatens and he could swear to Christ she's, right then, the scariest thing he could ever see and is stuck stupid with a sense of pride for her.

She turns then and Mike speaks once more-

"Hey, Amy?"

She turns around again, looking annoyed and it all happens in a flash: The gun going off. Amy's pained gasp as she clutches her abdomen. The frantic yells from everyone. Holt's booming voice. Everything going to shit.

And it's all so quick and all over the place and kind of a blur so, Jake doesn't realize he's moving until he's already across the room and has the man who shot his partner by the throat, peering into the fucker's eyes as he chokes the life out of him, feeling inexplicably powerful as the other man flails and claws at his grip.

But, then, he's being pulled off by uniforms and he's now the one struggling, yelling, fighting off them off because _goddammit, he had him_ and _he deserves to die_ over this and once he's free, he's walking with determined strides over to his desk, hovering over it, catching his breath, getting his emotions together as he rasps air.

And then he feels something. His spidy sense going off as he feels-

In a flash, he has his gun and spins around, shooting Mike point blank in the head as the man is just about to do the same to him, feeling nothing as the man dies immediately.

Then, it's... silent. Deathly quiet and Jake thinks he's having an out-of-body experience and he can see it all: The entire precinct shocked into quiet. The dead body of the man who shot Amy. _His_ Amy, who-

"Amy?" He suddenly comes back to himself enough to focus on the most important thing in the room. The most important _person_ in the room.

And then, he sees her, a towel being pressed to her stomach as she is flanked by Holt and a shaken Gina and is at her side in an instant. "Amy?" And he's right there, scooping her up, gathering her to his chest, not even caring that her blood is getting on his own shirt, wiping the cold sweat off her forehead as she looks at him, pale and in pain. "J-Jake?" She whispers, letting out a wheezing breath, and to his horror, he feels moisture gather in his eyes as he looks into hers, glazed over in shock. "It... h-hurts..." She manages through chattering teeth, her face in a grimace.

"I know, baby." He responses without thinking, the never-used endearment just rolling off his tongue effortlessly, way past giving a damn what the others see. "I know. You just- You gotta hold on. Just please hold on for me, okay?" He hears nothing back and when he looks back down, her eyes are closed. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. Amy, wake up. Amy, please."

He gets nothing but, silence back.

"Amy!"

...

Jake spends essentially every minute, after Amy is operated on - getting a bullet out of her stomach is long and tedious and Holt actually yells at a nurse for information during it - and is then considered comatose, either working and/or drinking and it becomes a thing. He even goes to work during the days Holt tells him to take off because of course, why would he wanna drink during the day because that would be_ crazy_, right?

Then he goes home and that's when the dark stuff happens.

Dark stuff meaning sitting in the barely lit space of his apartment, on the floor, drinking whiskey, and thinking - it's a lot easier to think about your partner and friend you care for the most lying in a hospital bed when you're _not_ sober - about nothing and everything and then drinking more and more til he's so out of it and numb and his mind is blank enough that he's able to get at least a few hours of sleep.

And then he goes to work, starts all over again, crabby and cranky, the dark sunglasses he's wearing indicative of his hangover and the lack of greetings towards everybody as well his complete lack of good mood tells them to back off and leave him alone and it works so well that soon most people know to keep away from him, the only person brave enough to get within two feet of him - probably because she can be scarier - being Rosa and that's only because she's replacing Amy on the cases that would require a second hand no matter _what_ Jake tells the Captain.

Even Gina stays away and actually does what she's told and makes no cracks at Boyle for his new rainbow sweater.

And he prefers it that way because everybody else avoids him like the plague and he's extra snipey with them and the only other person he could probably stand to be his number two would be Boyle but, he's not so much in his own head that he doesn't realize that it would as difficult, if not more, for the other man because Charles is into emotions and feelings and all that crap and, even though he would try not to, maybe one day he'll burst and ask him how he's doing and God forbid, he should shoot his friend for being concerned.

It's better this way. Rosa Diaz would never, in a million years, ask him how he's doing or if he needs anything, she'll be there. No. None of that. Just good, old-fashioned silence and shop talk and he revels in every minute of it.

The only person who does speak up, however, is Holt.

"How are you?" The Captain asks one day after a briefing meeting about a case, the question making Jake pause as he turns to leave.

"What?

"I'm asking you how you are feeling, detective." His boss responses, as stoic as ever, but he can hear the underlying concern in his voice and it kind of pisses him off because why can't people take a hint?

The first response to come to him is _never better_.

The one to come out of his mouth is. "What do you think?"

He turns back around and it's like word vomit because once he starts, he can't stop. "My partner is in the hospital and she's not here and I pretty much hate everything and I can't take a personal day because all I'll do is think about... things." He says through clenched teeth. "And I can't right now 'cause it'll probably kill me so, in a word, it's been shitty, Captain."

He thinks - hopes - that'll be the end of it but, of course, why would things ever go his way right now?

"Have a seat."

"I have to-"

"That's not a request."

He sits back down.

He thinks he sees something like emotion cross the older man's face and he sits there in silence before Holt starts to speak. "You're upset. We all are. Everybody here knows exactly how you are feeling." He gives him a stern look as he leans in. "There's nobody here that wouldn't sympathize with you if you just spoke up. Took a day. When she wakes up-"

"-If she wakes up-"

"-When she wakes up." The Captain says over him, unperturbed. "She will know how she's been missed. And how much you miss her because I know you do."

He says nothing because he's not wrong. He _does_ miss her. It's been a week since what happened and he's not gone to see her and it's like that Missing Limb Syndrome he hears so much about. It's not the same. Life is not what it should be when she's not there.

"Also..." He comes back when Holt says this because _geez, here it comes_. "...I think that it would benefit you - everyone - if you would go seek help. Professional help." He adds carefully when Jake gives him an eyebrow raise. "Everyone else has already gone to their sessions but, I think you need it the most."

He's gonna regret it but, he asks. "Why do you say that?"

"Because..." The Captain seems to think about the words to say and then. "...I've seen many people, both men and women, nearly lose their partners like this. I've seen everyone react in different ways. Different... tactics for coping. But, I have never seen anyone react like you have. It's... interesting."

He's rapidly getting more and more uncomfortable the more Holt speaks because he's been a little more than out of his mind lately but, not enough that he can't spot a potential puzzle and he thinks he knows where the Captain is going and he'll do anything to put an end to it.

Instead, he does what he does best and deflects. "Well, I'm an interesting guy." And then some more. "And Amy and I are friends so-"

"No." Holt interjects firmly and the expression - or what you can pass for an expression for this guy - on his face calls for no bullshit. "No. This is more than that. And I think you know what I'm talking about."

He narrows his eyes at the other man because god, _please_, he can't be talking about- "What are you implying, Sir?"

"I'm not implying anything." The older man replies, game face on. "I'm merely stating that there are rules. Rules that, more or less, limits many things between members of many precincts." Jake starts to open his mouth but, Holt interrupts, a look in his eye that kinda frightens him a little bit. "However, within this, my precinct, I think I can make an exception for my top two detectives."

There's a long as hell beat after that and Jake stares at his boss, assuming that he's done because _jesus_, he hopes so. "Is that-?" He starts ackwardly, fumbling for the first time for something to say. "Are we-?"

"Yes, detective, you may leave now."

"Good." He gets up and gets out of there as fast as he can.

He's half way towards his desk when he realizes that Captain Holt has essentially just given him permission to date Amy. While the woman, in question, is in a coma.

And it's just... weird. This whole day is a fucked up, oily version of weird because _what, now?_

...

He finally goes to see Amy on the second day of week two because at a certain point, - and with a certain boss's encouragement - enough is enough and he is seeing a damn therapist who gives him a ton of advice he doesn't necessarily wanna hear but, whatever, she seems nice and reminds of a less senile, bespectacled version of his grandma. So much so that when she occasionally snaps out of her psycho babble monotone and he sees a tiny crack of some human warmth in her, Jake almost expects her to give him milk and cookies while patting him on the head saying, _you'll do wonderful, pineapples_.

And anyway, he goes to see Amy because he misses her and seeing her even when they can't talk is better than not seeing her at all and he thinks it will make things feel better.

And no, nothing Holt may or may not encourage plays a part in this. Not at all.

And he's right. It does make him feel better. But, also kinda not.

The first thing he notices when he walks into her room is that she's not alone.

There's stuff everywhere. Balloons. Flowers. Cards. Stuffed animals. A few wrapped presents.

And he also sees there's someone already here. She's still petite, hair in now shiny riglets over her shoulders. Wearing a sundress with a cardigan. Holding her friend's hand even as she reads with the other.

"Claire?"

She looks up and smiles. "Hey."

He notes, with some pride, that she seems to smile easier now and he thinks he did something else right when he got rid of Mike.

And when she gets up and gives him a brief hug, he also realizes that she's gained a few pounds and no bones are jagging into him as she wraps her arms around his waist, her renewed strength showing when she actually gives him a squeeze before pulling away.

"How are you?"

"I'm... good." She looks over at Amy in her hospital bed, sighing. "Could be better. Been spending most of my time here."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." And he really, really is. "She doesn't deserve to be alone. Even though I've... been to much of a pussy to be here myself so..."

She actually chuckles, giving him a friendly pat on the arm. "Well, you're here now." She looks back and forth between her friend and him. "Do you want me to... take off or-?"

"No, stay." He interrupts firmly. "Stay. Please. It's- You were here first and... I'd really appreciate it." He's not really ready to be alone with her quite yet. Afraid of what he might say. Afraid he'd do something stupid like cry or pray or whatever.

"Okay."

They settle in. Claire sitting back in her back in the lounger near Amy's bed and Jake grabbing a spare chair from the corner and dragging over near the bed, sitting down as he takes in the woman in the hospital bed.

She's pale. More pale than he's ever seen her. But, other than that, she just looks like she's having a deep, snoreless sleep and that's kind of what creeps him out though, he continues to look at her, glad to see her after what feels like forever.

"You know..." Claire says after several minutes of silence and rips his focus away from Amy. "...you could talk to her. The doctor says it would help some. You know, maybe it would creep into her awareness or something..." She shrugs, giving him a look that tells him she knows, despite it being from medial professionals, what she's saying sounds a little crazy.

His eyes go back to his partner - his... something significant - and his self-doubt peaks into his voice. "What would I even say?"

"I don't know." The other woman gets up and sits at her friend's side on the bed. "You can just talk to me if it makes you feel more comfortable. We could just chat with each other. If that's okay?" She says, making it sound like a question and after thinking about it, he nods.

"Okay, how do we do this, then?"

"We just..." She shrugs again. "...Talk. Get to know one another. Here, I'll start." She shifts on the bed a bit, then gives him a direct look. "How long have you and Amy been partners?"

He actually chuckles. Lets out a rusty laugh for the first time in a while. "Wow, that's a nice one. You're good at this."

She smiles. "I know, so...?" She looks at him expectedly.

He bites his lip, thinking back. "Four years now." He nods to himself for getting it right. "I wasn't very... team-oriented when she got to the 99 and I had already gone through a few partners by then and when this bookish, uptight, smart little spitfire came into the precinct, I was pretty ready to give her a hard time because I didn't think I needed a partner." He looks up at Claire, who's listening intently. "I preferred to work alone. Lone wolf type deal."

She nods. "Naturally."

"Naturally, right." He goes back to his course of thought. "And then Amy came along and to be honest, not a lot changed for a while and I did anything I could to best her. Tease her. Basically nothing was off limits if it pissed her off." He feels himself, again for the first time since everything, smile as he remembers. "And then, before I knew it... I don't know, what can I tell ya? She chained me."

"Chained you?"

"Yeah." He nods. "We just... _mesh_ well together, you know? She balances me out. And I like having her around. And she likes having me around... most of the time." He quirked an eyebrow. "It wasn't always easy and we disagreed a lot but, it just works. And we became friends and she's, honestly, the best detective I've ever worked with."

He looks up at the woman being his own personal sounding board and pauses in whatever he's gonna say next when he sees the expression on her face.

She looks knowing. _Too_ knowing. Like she's figured out something important.

"You love her." She states softly. Firmly.

_Say what now?_

He can only gape at her because what in the hell...? "Yeah." He shakes his head, putting together words. "Yeah, I kinda do. She _is_ my friend like I said-"

"No." She's already shaking her head at his feeble words. "No, no. You_ love_ her." She's giving him a look that's saying that he's an idiot for not knowing this sooner and in hindsight, he probably is, so don't judge. "You're in love with Amy. You like, love her, love her."

"What the fu-?" He starts to say because really, not this - not right now. It's like Boyle at the bar all over again. "I'm not- I don't-"

She just cocks her head to the side, her expression clearly telling him to think about what he's gonna to say next and he stops himself. "Really? If you don't love her, say it. Look me in the eye and tell me with a straight face." She challenges, chin in the air.

A challenge he takes up because he looks her right in the eyes, prepared to say the words in his head. "I... don't... lo-" He tries again. "I don't lov..."

He can't. He can't say it. He can't deny it because it's out and once the whole thing is in the air, he can't help but realize how true it is.

He loves her. He loves Amy. That's why he hasn't been able to breathe for the past week. That's why the idea of never seeing her again hurts so much. That's why he couldn't face visiting and seeing her in a hospital bed.

And that's why the sensations in his chest feel mostly like... _heartbreak_. Terrible and foreign and unbearable.

Because it is.

Because he's in love with her.

_Shit._

...

A lot happens during the interim between of Jake realizing he's in love with his partner and the next couple of days that would lead into Amy's third week of her coma. He visits constantly. Holds her hand sometimes. Sometimes not. Sometimes just keeps himself there without touching her. Pacing. Sitting down. Hovering over her.

He stops drinking - at least to wean off the booze that's become his safety net since this whole thing happened.

He tries to become more himself at work.

And also, he meets Amy's family. Sort of.

He's walking in for his second visit during a Sunday and sees she has company. A large, tanned, burly man who's holding her hand and looking at her, only to look up suddenly when he steps into the room.

Jake tries and fails to quell the feeling in his heart that one would call jealousy and starts to walk back out. "Sorry, I'll just-"

"No, no, no." The man gets up, holding out a hand to stop him. "You don't have to leave."

"No, it's cool-"

"You really don't have to."

He looks back at the guy and tries his best to be civil. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." The man says with a friendly, open smile that he immediately hates because it makes him a lot more good-looking and Jakes gives himself a mental kick in the ass because so, what if Amy has someone already? It's Amy. Of course, she would. Just because he... _has feelings_ for her doesn't mean she's been waiting on him to make up his mind.

It sucks but, he'll make do.

He steps back in, towards the bed where Amy lays, sitting down in his usual chair and moving closer to her.

He feels the guy shift and extend a hand. "I'm Ricky."

He forces himself, again, not to bristle and instead ignores the hand and greets him curtly, eyes on Amy. "Detective Jake Peralta. Good to meet you."

It takes a few minutes but, this Ricky guy eventually realizes that he's not gonna shake his hand and sits back down and it's quiet for a moment as he feels this dude's gaze on him, before he speaks. "You're Amy's partner, aren't you?"

He feels his jaw twitch. Just a little. "Yup."

"Uh-huh." The guy manages before talking again, amusement filtering through his tone. "You know I'm her brother, right?"

_The fuck?_

He looks up at Ricky's face, only to see the most humored smirk he could ever see on someone's face that's not his own. "Excuse me?"

"I'm her big brother." The other man says again, laughing a little. "So, you can relax now."

His face falls into his hands at his own stupidity... and embarrassment. "Oh, shit." He says, voice muffled against his palms. "I'm sorry , man."

Ricky's chuckles reach into his eardrums. "Nah, man, it's alright. I had a feeling you had the wrong idea when you walked in here with that look on your face."

He sighs, sliding his hands over his face until his eyes pop up and look at the other guy properly. "And what look was that?"

"Like I was competition."

"That's just... great." He mutters sarcastically before looking at Amy's brother apologetically. "Do over?"

The guy now known as Ricky shrugs and nods, standing up as he does the same. "I'm Ricky, Amy's very related older brother." He says, that smirk back on his face.

He shakes the hand he takes out this time. "And I'm Jake Peralta, Amy's partner and... friend." The very last part of that is hard to say for some reason and he clears his throat when he sits back down.

They end up chatting a while. Jake learning all he can about his partner. And Ricky grabbing onto work anecdotes he hasn't heard already. Until before they know, it's past dark and Jake looks at his watch. "Oh wow, we've been here a while."

His new buddy stretches his tree bark arms over his head, yawning. "Yup." And as Jake starts to get up to go stretch his own legs, he stops him. "I actually have a question for you."

He stops and turns. "Yeah?"

"How long have you been in love with my sister?" He asks him, a curious expression on his face.

He waits, just stands there, then lets out a puff of breath. "To be honest, I'm not really sure." He smiles at Amy on the bed. "A while, I guess."

"Don't break her heart, okay?"

He looks at Ricky - so protective of his sister - and smiles widely. "I wouldn't dream of it."

...

On the day his partner is shot, it's a cold, bright day in Brooklyn and Jake Peralta wakes up unassuming - and ends the day changed.

And it's on a very similar day - another day Jake assumes nothing - that the woman he loves wakes up.

He's at the precinct when he gets the news from Boyle. The happiest news he could ever hear.

"Amy's awake."

And just like that, he's out. Gone. Straight outta there and directly to the hospital.

Unfortunately, on one of the best day of his life, traffic is well, traffic. He has trouble finding a parking spot. The elevators are slow as balls. And he's just really, really impatient to see Amy!

He finally gets there, out of breath and feeling like he's just run a marathon, but, he gets there and stomps right into the room.

There's a lot people already there and from the looks of them, he can see they might be family, and he can even spot Claire, crying happy tears nearby, and right there, in the middle of everyone, people all over her - is Amy. His Amy- awake. Sunlight from the window making her hair shine. Her eyes open and aware. Lips curled into a big, teeth-baring smile he'd missed so much.

She's so breath-taking to him in that moment that it doesn't dawn on him that his probably loud entrance is garnering everyone's attention, including the woman of hour who stares at him with wide, shocked eyes and that everybody has gone silent and are now staring at him.

Then, he comes back to reality and keeps his eyes on Amy as she meets his gaze for the first in forever.

Then, she says his name.

"Jake."

And he's moving. Like that awful day nearly three weeks back, his body walks with long, determined strides, creating a parting of the sea with her family, without his knowledge and before he knows it, he's crawling onto the hospital bed and into her personal space and when she says his name again in that breathy, rusty voice of hers, he doesn't bother thinking to stop himself.

He kisses her. Just lays his hand on the side of her face, through the silk her hair and propels her forward as he leans in.

And it's like, the _best_ kiss of his life. It's in a hospital bed and she's literally just gotten back into the waking world but, it's still amazing and it's not like they've ever been conventional here.

Her lips are a little chapped but, warm and really soft and he groans when she responses - with some hesitation - to him after a little bit, a soft sound coming with her breath into his mouth, one of her small hands coming up to lay on his shoulder.

It happens quickly, like a minute tops, of him kissing her, with restrained passion and lacking of tongue by the way, for the first - hopefully not last - time but, it's worth it when he does pull back, still pecking at the sides of her mouth, a sigh escaping him as he keeps his eyes closed before slowly opening them to look into hers.

She looks... baffled. Happy, as far as he can tell, but still really, really confused and frankly, he doesn't blame her because nearly a month ago, they'd been partners and friends and though, there'd been moments between them, he never did give any indication of... _this_.

"Hi." He manages, his voice low, still close to her, still touching her face as he presses his forehead to hers, feeling contentment lift at the weight in his heart that he's had for the past couple of weeks, nuzzling her because _goddamn_, she's awake, finally, and here with him.

"Hello." She says, breathless and the rasp in her voice makes him wanna lean in and take her lips again but, he holds back and instead settles for holding her eyes, the rich, coffee color he would gladly gaze into if he could as she looks right back, the hand on her shoulder traveling hesitantly up his neck, as though still unnerved by this new brand of affection he's wrought on her out of nowhere.

Then, he hears someone clear their throat and it brings him back to reality and he remembers _dear god_, he kissed her for the first time in front of her family and Claire and quite possibly the befuddled nurse in the corner there.

He reluctantly rips his attention from the woman in front of him to look up, unfortunately bringing distance between them in the process.

He spots Ricky giving him the biggest smirk and realizes he's the one who cleared his throat, a thumb rubbing his chin as they lock eyes, nodding at him like a bro. "Hey, man."

He nods back, the corners of his mouth lifting at the sides. "Rick." He looks around the room, spotting people of different ages, all looking at him like he's a clown. "Audience." Then he spots Claire, wide-eyed and if possible giving him an even bigger, much more smug grin as she waves at him and he holds his hand up in return. "Claire. Always a pleasure."

He steals a look back at Amy, who frowns, he's guessing at the familiarity he now has with her brother and good friend. "I'll explain later."

And he does, way later, after the crowd lets out and he's literally met a thousand of her cousins, all five of her other scary huge brother - Danny, Paul, Jose, Marcus,_ and_ Javier -, her mother, Maria, who just keeps hugging him and kissing his face because she's so _ecstatic that her daughter finally found someone._

Something, he might add, Amy does nothing to correct. Their kiss earlier, not withstanding.

"How long have I been out?" She asks in the midst of silence and beeping machines, voice still a little jaggedy, even after he's gotten her some water.

"Almost... three weeks."

"Jesus." She lies back fully on her bed, her head swimming, he could imagine, before she turns her eyes back to him. "Is everyone else okay? Did Mike-?"

"Everyone's fine." He says before she could finish. "No one else got hurt. I mean, they weren't fine after because they were worried about you but, I'm thinking, they'll be better now because you're awake."

She nods, looking at him, he realizes in that way she does when she's being probing. Trying to figure him out. "And you?"

_I wanted to die. I wanted to end it all because you weren't here and life isn't worth it for me without you in it and I realized that I'm so in love with you, it hurts me to look at you without worry I might do something stupid like tell you._

What comes out of his mouth is. "I'm better now."

...

They don't talk about the kiss for the record and it feels to Jake like there's an unspoken agreement there that it isn't the time to do so and every time he visits after she wakes up, there seems to be someone already there and they never have a chance to be alone again and anyways, they'll discuss it later.

_Later_ ends up being another long week of her being in the hospital until she is discharged and because he does end up a whole lot busier than he wants to, considering how much he wants to see her, he has to hear it from Claire - because they're fucking _besties_ now, if you can believe it - that she is staying with her for the time being until she's physically more able and another several days after that til she's ready to come back to work, though Holt makes it clear that she's on desk duty until further notice and he gives silent praise to the older man because he never, ever wants to go through this again.

He gets his first glimpse of her after walking out of Holt's office one morning and his breath kinda stops because she's there, in the flesh, in their precinct, dressed in her usual slacks and button-up and matching blazer, her hair in that hot librarian bun that he secretly digs, smiling and laughing as she is surrounded by everybody and even Rosa cracks a rare smile and Terry restrains himself from a bear hug and Gina is at her nicest and Charles... is _Charles_, so he sobs happily the entire time.

And Jake doesn't join. Hangs back a bit until they retreat and then it's just her and they meet eyes and it's like... electricity all over the place. Like a fuse binding them together.

So, when she nods her head for him to meet her in the evidence lock-up later, he doesn't hesitate and follows.

"Hey." He says, smiling so wide his face hurts, meeting her in the darkened corridors way in the back.

"Hi." She smiles back at him - nervously, tightly and he starts to frown. "Listen, I just wanted to say I know you kissed me back at the hospital." She stutters. "I know you did it because you were glad I was awake and that you lost your head for a minute and things got out of hand for you." She says in a rush, avoiding his eye and his frown deepens. "The point is, I know you didn't mean for it to happen so, you know, bye."

She's about to turn and leave when he grabs her arm to prevent it and says one simple word.

"No."

It seems to make her pause and she turns slowly to peer at him. "No?"

"No." He places both hands on her shoulders, using the leverage to bring her closer as he holds her gaze. "I meant to kiss you. Granted, not like _that_, not in a hospital with your family looking at me like I was a maniac but, I meant it. Yeah, I was very happy to see you because I missed you and you're my partner and I was out of my mind everyday you didn't wake up." He admits, stepping closer and sees her throat move as he does. Another nervous tick of hers. "I was miserable without you and I meant it. I meant all of it and you know it and that's why you're freaking out right now."

She shakes her head, still look at him. "But, you never-"

"Yeah." He agrees, nodding. "I'm an idiot. I'm an idiot for realizing how much you mean to me and my feelings for you after you almost died in front of me." She stiffens a bit and flinches and he shakes his head at himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean- Anyway, I meant the kiss and..." He takes a deep breath because _what the hell, if not now, when?_ "I have something to say to you."

He looks at her, looks into those beautiful eyes focusing on him and tries to work up the courage.

But, nothing happens after a long time and she starts to frown, her face falling and it causes a flip in his stomach. "Look, Jake, whatever it is, you don't have to-"

"I love you." He says, gazing into her eyes more confidently and he could swear he hears her breath catch as she stares at him with wide eyes. "It's not idea and I could have possibly figured this out at a much more convenient time but..." He smiles at her again, trying to make her understand him. His joy at finally telling her. "... I love you. You're one of the best things in my life and I literally couldn't breathe while you were away and god, I just..." He leans in and kisses her for the second time. Only this time in the evidence lock-up at work. In dark corridor. And he cradles her jaw as they slowly kiss, her own hands coming up to his shoulders to anchor herself to deepen everything and when she moans, he feels his whole body tighten up, catching her tongue with his to make the kiss more passionate, his arms going around her waist, her fingers digging into his hair.

Eventually, they both have to pull away for air and when they do, their breathing is harsh and panting is all they can do as they lean their foreheads on each other until Jake has enough oxygen to speak again. "God, I love you."

"I really like hearing you say that." She exclaims, beaming as bright as the sun she reminds him so much of. "I never thought I'd have this and now that I do-"

"You'll never have to worry again. I will literally _glue_ myself to you if possible."

She lets out a breathy laugh until she suddenly frowns and kinda pulls way. "I..." She starts shaking her head. "... Jake, I'm not..."

He knows it already. Knows what she's getting at. "It's okay." He says gently, pulling her close once more. "You don't have to say it back. The fact that you feel anything at all is just-"

"I do." She says, smiling up at him in that way he'd always dreamed about. "I do feel something. Something strong. And it's not enough, I know it's not." He starts to speak but, she effectively silences him. But, I'm not there yet. But, I can be. If you'd give us a chance-"

"Chance given!" He exclaims, arms over his head enthusiastically. "Chance has been given a long time ago!"

"Really?" She says, smiling so big and wide that she looks like she's glowing.

"Yes!"

They grin at each other, happiness ping ponging back and forth.

Amy talks first after a bit. "So, we're doing this? This is happening?"

"You're damn straight it is." Jake laughs, joy making his very bones vibrate before she pulls him down for another longer kiss.

On the day his partner is shot, it's a cold, bright day in Brooklyn, and Jake Peralta wakes up unassuming - and ends the day changed.

And it's a similar - _much_ similar - day when the woman he loves tells him she does, too, a few months later.

...

**A/N: *whistles* Sweet Jesus, you guys, this was a doozy! And, to be perfectly honest, when I started, I had another version in mind for this story but, it would've been a lot longer and tons darker and I decided I didn't wanna depress you guys so, I scrapped it entirely so, thanks for reading and hope it wasn't too bad!**


End file.
